


GUILTY

by tealuvhonor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (mostly), Canon Compliant, Confessions, Fantasizing, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oikawa stirs the pot, Phone Sex, Post-nut clarity has left the building, Timeskip, Touch-Starved, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealuvhonor/pseuds/tealuvhonor
Summary: Hinata's Mental Checklist:- improve volleyball skills- get used to living alone- be deeply in love with your best friend who lives 17,360 kilometers away
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	GUILTY

Hinata never tired of the heat, or the sunsets that blanketed the beach in peachy, golden hues. Usually, he would linger for a while, even if he didn’t have a match later that night. To simply lean back, his elbows digging into the sand accompanied by a comfortable stretch in his back, and watch as dusk began to settle, was bliss.

What he did tend to (rapidly) grow tired of was the quiet.

His preference for background noise was nothing new. That being said, he never used to think about it very often. There was always his mom, or Natsu demanding entry to his room, the bustle of a hectic classroom. Then, of course, practice.

The frantic high-tens that Yachi would dole out indiscriminately, Yamaguchi’s good natured leader-like pats on the shoulder, even the alumnus’ back-breakingly tight hugs when they returned to sit in, kept him light as air.

Then there was Kageyama sharing his water bottle with him, mussing up his hair after a particularly well executed spike, letting his hand linger feather-light between his shoulder blades, at the small of his back…

The absence of it all took some getting used to. 

Shouyo didn’t want to be one of those guys that harped on and on about high school for the rest of his life. He had a lot going for him, even if he was achingly far, far away from his closest friends and family. It was all about learning to live independently. It was all _for the best._

Affection was also his love language, unfortunately.

Dammit.

When he returned to his apartment after taking on 12 or so flights of stairs plainly for the sake of it, Hinata let his duffel slump unceremoniously into the corner of the room, but not before yanking his phone out of the front pocket and nearly blinding himself from the screen brightness in the otherwise dimly lit entryway. He kicked his shoes off at the door whilst inspecting the lock screen.

[3 unread messages]

Huh. Stumbling just a bit, he slid his palm up the length of the wall to feel around for the light switch, then ‘hmph’ed triumphantly when warmth flooded the space.

He was shaking sand out of his t-shirt on the brief walk to his bedroom, tapping to expand the notification.

Two of the texts were from Oikawa, whose contact was accompanied by a small star emoji, which Hinata did not recall adding. The first one was a link to a twitter video of a little ginger cat making a pretty risky jump from the floor to the top of a refrigerator, accompanied by the commentary ‘omg it’s u!!’

The beginnings of a smile crept onto his lips, until his eyes darted further down to the other text, which read ‘did u end up telling him?’

Unfortunately, Hinata knew what Oikawa was referring to straight away, recalling the time they went out to eat together.

-

He was elbows deep in his plate when the older man piped up from the opposite side of the table.

“Well, this is kinda romantic,” Oikawa hummed over the ambient chatter that filled the cafe, the lilt in his voice suggesting some degree of humor.

The redhead perked up at this, gaze rising to meet the setter’s as he continued.

“Better make sure Tobio-chan doesn’t think you’re two timing him, hm?”

Hinata managed to gulp down whatever he was eating and raised an eyebrow at the other, feeling a little lost.

“What do you mean? I’ve had lots of other guys set for me. I don’t think Kageyama gets bothered by it,” he murmurs the last part, his head tilting sideways a bit when he notices Oikawa looking even more self satisfied than usual.

“Of course he doesn’t,” the brunet shifted in the booth, opting to lean back with his arm draped over the side. He seemed to be gauging Hinata’s reactions carefully, scanning for…something. “Sorry, I just thought you guys had a little thing going on. I shouldn’t pry.”

“It’s not like that,” Hinata replied, a little too quickly for his own liking. He felt his shoulders tense at the implication, his brain flying on autopilot, “We just work really well together, like as teammates and as friends and that would be _weird-“_

“Calm down, shorty. I believe you,” Oikawa cut him off, thank _god_.

Their waitress came over to refill their waters, which sent both men into a cacophony of thank you’s, effectively dropping the subject. Temporarily.

Shouyo really wasn’t a lightweight, he swears, just a talkative drunk. Hell, he tended to ramble completely sober, but get four or five shots in him and bam, instant oversharing.

Before he knew it, he was hitting Oikawa’s line at midnight on a Saturday, not really expecting an answer. The way it was supposed to go was that he’d hit voicemail, say something cheeky in some half-baked hybrid of Spanish and Portuguese, then shoot each of his high school friends a brief yet overzealous ‘I miss you’ before knocking out face down in bed.

Instead, the setter picked up after two rings, sounding very much awake. 

“Hey, chibi. What’s happening?”

From there, Hinata fell down a very slippery slope. Off a cliff. Into an abyss.

He truly couldn’t stop the word vomit, slurring his speech every so often as he explained how he could never pinpoint the moment when he started looking at his teammate differently, but it had been eating at him from the inside out since graduation. How he thought being away from Kageyama physically would help, but in reality it just made everything worse and he got this tightness in his chest at the mere thought of his friend’s scent or his laugh or his biceps and oh god he felt ill-

The timestamp on that call read [46 minutes]

-

Hinata began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth until it stung, blinking once, then twice at the chat log before doubling back to the home screen. He flopped forward onto his bed, feeling stray sand shake free of his clothes and onto the comforter.

Oikawa never teased him too badly about the call, which was surprising but also a genuine relief, especially because he was expecting to take that confession to the grave. If anyone was going to know, he wanted it to be Yamaguchi, whose emotional intelligence was unmatched and who _also_ knew how to keep his mouth shut. 

Of course, the older man hadn’t exactly told him what he wanted to hear.

“You’re not gonna feel better until you tell him, and I’m speaking from experience here,”Oikawa had encouraged, and was promptly met with several echoes of “but I caaaan’t.”

He decided to leave him on read for the time being, opting to check the other unread message whilst propping himself up on his elbows.

It was an image- from Kageyama, no less. The subject matter of their conversation from earlier in the day began to flood back, his friend detailing a mishap during practice, a collision, that left his ribcage aching. Hinata urged him to keep sending updates, fussing as if he hadn’t nailed him intentionally a couple hundred times in that exact spot back in the day. The truth of the matter was that a bruised rib wouldn’t quite fuck up his entire season, but it would be a serious setback, especially for Kageyama, who routinely ignored his own injuries.

Instead of describing how he was feeling, which really never was his strong suit, he had simply attached a photo. Of himself. Shirtless.

Hinata felt his cheeks heat up against his own will. This was the part of his crush that sucked the most by far. For years, the two of them had changed and showered side by side with zero problems. Not one!

Cautiously, he tapped on the file to enlarge it, having to suppress a groan and the urge to bury his face in a pillow and scream directly into it. It was taken at a curious angle, from the shoulders down. Kageyama was on his back, presumably in bed, shifting his torso as a means to showcase the darkening bruise below his pec, extending down his left side in splotches of purple and blue. Ouch.

His black sweatpants hung way too low on his hips, which for the ginger came across as a personal attack. He could see the tie at the front hanging askew, undone, and that awful, incredible jut of his hipbones leading down to…yeah, that.

Quickly, Hinata feels himself stir, face flushing deeper at the realization that he was a fucking animal that couldn’t keep himself at bay for two minutes without pitching a tent for his best friend.

Once he got over that, mentally at least, he was focused on the little droplets of water on Kageyama’s chest and stomach, indicating that he had been icing his side, and also that the ice pack made his nipples noticeably hard.

Hinata let his own hips dig selfishly into the mattress, twitching erratically at the friction it provided and getting sickeningly more excited at the thought of his friend pressing his large palm into the small of Hinata’s back, under his shirt, encouraging him.

Why did he have to send a picture like _that?_ It was so fucking obscene that it actually started to piss Hinata off, ripping his t-shirt and shorts off with newfound energy that he shouldn’t have after all that stair climbing.

He manhandled the dial on the shower, not really caring about the temperature of the water but rather that the portrait orientation lock was active on his phone.

The water was scorching, and the act was quick. Dirty. So good that it left his ears ringing and his knees feeling like they were about to give out from underneath him as the evidence of his transgression circled the drain.

Maybe if he slipped in the shower and went into a coma he wouldn’t have to deal with this mess.

After that, it was quiet, like it always was. The tension had left his shoulders, and he shifted to turn on the TV for some background noise.

He sent Oikawa a blunt ‘nah,’ and immediately received a frowny face in return. Staring at the ceiling was fun for like, almost three whole minutes.

Without even thinking, he exhaled and pressed Kageyama’s contact, then pressed call. It rung for a short while, during which he fidgeted with the collar of his clean shirt, nearly fraying the edge.

“What?” Kageyama finally answered, and he sounded rough, like he needed a glass of water or something.

“Did I wake you up?” Hinata answered a question with a question, already knowing the answer.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like, five thirty in the morning in Japan, idiot,” he replied, a little softer. The sleep in his voice was still evident, and his scratchy tone made the redhead want to crawl through the phone and offer himself as a human pillow, like they used to do on the bus rides home from camp.

“Well, you could have been up for practice or something! Sorry,” Hinata murmured that last bit, rolling over onto his side, “I just wanted to…“

_Tell you something. Hear your voice. Touch you._

_“_ I just wanted to say hi,” he settled on, like a coward.

He heard something muffled through the line that could’ve been a laugh or maybe a sneeze.

“Hi.”

Hinata couldn’t suppress his smile if he tried.

**Author's Note:**

> What is this level of quarantine even called? Happy Haikyuu day btw


End file.
